Sixteen years ago a decided I wanted to get a playmate for my dog Gizmo. Gizmo was about 1-1/2 and she was a Shih Tzu-Lhasa Apso mix. Today she would be called some kind of designer name, probably a Shih Apso or Lhazu or something trendy. I just called her a mutt. But Gizmo was such a great little dog and she was very active and I decided, much to my then fiance's dismay, that Gizmo needed a playmate. I was travelling a lot and Michael was working and going to school, and Gizmo spent many of her days alone baby gated in the kitchen. It seemed to me unfair when a little buddy could make her days a bit brighter.
I had gotten Gizmo as a referral from a veterinarian I had met that knew of someone that owned Gizmo who thought she was just a bit too active. So I guess in hindsight, that was a good way to find a dog. The vet knew her history and knew the people that bred her and knew they just wanted her to go to a home that would love her and be able to take care of her. Michael and I fit the bill on that one. But when it came to Reeves, being the normal pet buyer, I went to what I would now term a backyard breeder. I remember it was a sunny day in May when I pulled into this lady's front yard. There she was under a big shade tree with a puppy pen just brimming with black and white little puppies. They were all so tiny, except for one big ol' goofy looking dog that had a zest for life it seemed. The lady and I talked about prices and I asked about the big goofy looking dog. She said that he was the last one from his litter - the pick of the litter she said. He was five months old but she hadn't been able to find a home for him yet. In retrospect, that pick of the litter line was garbage. This poor little guy was still there because he was the homeliest Shih Tzu I had ever seen during the course of what little research I had done. But he was just the happiest little guy and was bouncing around like crazy. I picked him up and asked his price and the lady hemmed and hawed and said, well he was the pick of his litter, but because he's so much older than the rest of the puppies (which were all between 4 and 8 weeks old), she would let him go for $100. I paid the lady and left with Reeves and never looked back.
Gizmo and Reeves were like peanut butter and jelly. They hit it off immediately! They played and played until finally they would collapse together and pass out from sheer exhaustion! The loved one another and formed a very special bond. It was because of them that I decided to get further involved in dogs.
Eventually Michael left the picture and I was on my own again, but I had custody of the kids. Michael never did like Reeves, and I'm sure that my bringing Reeves home when Michael and I were in the middle of a power struggle over finances, well , that didn't sit well with Michael. But I'll tell you what, I don't regret for a minute that I brought home this little dog that warm, sunny, Spring day in May. I remember the ride home - Reeves was terrified. But once he got to the house and met his sister Gizmo, all was right with the world.
Now, 16 years later, Gizmo is gone. She has been for about seven years now. I miss her and so does Reeves. Loosing your first one is always hard. But I had Reeves to hold on to. And then there was the rest of the crew here too. As I got involved with showing, my family grew. But now, Reeves is nearing his time. It's so hard to watch him deteriorate in front of my eyes. I cry everyday after I feed him and love on him. He's in extreme pain daily now due to his bad hips and awful topline. His structure was awful from the day he was born because his breeder wasn't breeding for structure. And now he is paying the price. His poor little hips hurt him terribly. Even with heavy pain medication, he cries when he moves lately. His walk is slow. He has lost his hearing and his eyesight, but he maneuvers through the house pretty well. He still finds the doggie door on some days. And the days he doesn't I don't really care. I am his servant, and I gladly serve him. He gets special meals spoon fed twice daily. We have our ritual of feeding, drinking, medication, eye drops and vitamins. He loves his yogurt and his peanut butter. The other dogs stand around begging and whining. And Reeves is up on the table in his little bed getting spoon fed his last meals. I can't even pick him up anymore as he cries out in pain. I have to lift him up by the sides of his little bed and put him on the table to feed and love him. Although they are painful days for both of us, I am grateful for these remaining days as they are gifts from God. But Gizmo is waiting at the bridge with Crystal right there beside her, both of my girls waiting for their little goofy buddy to dance again with them, joyfully playing without pain.
I love you baby boy. With all my heart. You will let me know when it is time. Until then I give you everything I can to make your days easier. I wish I could make you young again and hold you in my arms when I tell you I love you. I pray your final moments are peaceful and I hope you know how much I love you.
I had gotten Gizmo as a referral from a veterinarian I had met that knew of someone that owned Gizmo who thought she was just a bit too active. So I guess in hindsight, that was a good way to find a dog. The vet knew her history and knew the people that bred her and knew they just wanted her to go to a home that would love her and be able to take care of her. Michael and I fit the bill on that one. But when it came to Reeves, being the normal pet buyer, I went to what I would now term a backyard breeder. I remember it was a sunny day in May when I pulled into this lady's front yard. There she was under a big shade tree with a puppy pen just brimming with black and white little puppies. They were all so tiny, except for one big ol' goofy looking dog that had a zest for life it seemed. The lady and I talked about prices and I asked about the big goofy looking dog. She said that he was the last one from his litter - the pick of the litter she said. He was five months old but she hadn't been able to find a home for him yet. In retrospect, that pick of the litter line was garbage. This poor little guy was still there because he was the homeliest Shih Tzu I had ever seen during the course of what little research I had done. But he was just the happiest little guy and was bouncing around like crazy. I picked him up and asked his price and the lady hemmed and hawed and said, well he was the pick of his litter, but because he's so much older than the rest of the puppies (which were all between 4 and 8 weeks old), she would let him go for $100. I paid the lady and left with Reeves and never looked back.
Gizmo and Reeves were like peanut butter and jelly. They hit it off immediately! They played and played until finally they would collapse together and pass out from sheer exhaustion! The loved one another and formed a very special bond. It was because of them that I decided to get further involved in dogs.
Eventually Michael left the picture and I was on my own again, but I had custody of the kids. Michael never did like Reeves, and I'm sure that my bringing Reeves home when Michael and I were in the middle of a power struggle over finances, well , that didn't sit well with Michael. But I'll tell you what, I don't regret for a minute that I brought home this little dog that warm, sunny, Spring day in May. I remember the ride home - Reeves was terrified. But once he got to the house and met his sister Gizmo, all was right with the world.
Now, 16 years later, Gizmo is gone. She has been for about seven years now. I miss her and so does Reeves. Loosing your first one is always hard. But I had Reeves to hold on to. And then there was the rest of the crew here too. As I got involved with showing, my family grew. But now, Reeves is nearing his time. It's so hard to watch him deteriorate in front of my eyes. I cry everyday after I feed him and love on him. He's in extreme pain daily now due to his bad hips and awful topline. His structure was awful from the day he was born because his breeder wasn't breeding for structure. And now he is paying the price. His poor little hips hurt him terribly. Even with heavy pain medication, he cries when he moves lately. His walk is slow. He has lost his hearing and his eyesight, but he maneuvers through the house pretty well. He still finds the doggie door on some days. And the days he doesn't I don't really care. I am his servant, and I gladly serve him. He gets special meals spoon fed twice daily. We have our ritual of feeding, drinking, medication, eye drops and vitamins. He loves his yogurt and his peanut butter. The other dogs stand around begging and whining. And Reeves is up on the table in his little bed getting spoon fed his last meals. I can't even pick him up anymore as he cries out in pain. I have to lift him up by the sides of his little bed and put him on the table to feed and love him. Although they are painful days for both of us, I am grateful for these remaining days as they are gifts from God. But Gizmo is waiting at the bridge with Crystal right there beside her, both of my girls waiting for their little goofy buddy to dance again with them, joyfully playing without pain.
I love you baby boy. With all my heart. You will let me know when it is time. Until then I give you everything I can to make your days easier. I wish I could make you young again and hold you in my arms when I tell you I love you. I pray your final moments are peaceful and I hope you know how much I love you.
Shown above is my little sweet pea Reeves, resting in his little bed which is right next to my chair in the dog room.
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